


Consummating a Marriage of Convenience

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Conjugal Visit, M/M, PWP, Rushed Sex, Smut, and some hand-holding fluff as per a request, minor biting kink, minor hair-pulling kink, tbh it's a little fluffy all throughout, which is poorly researched and unfactual as to what an actual conjugal visit is set up as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in Iron Heights, when Len gets told it’s time for his conjugal visit, he can’t help but be surprised because the last he checked, he wasn’t married. But then, Barry Allen always manages to surprise him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consummating a Marriage of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vamps Maxwell (traciller)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Vamps+Maxwell+%28traciller%29).
  * Translation into Español available: [Consumando un matrimonio de conveniencia.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803255) by [AnBouwer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnBouwer/pseuds/AnBouwer)



Len was in the yard when a guard called out his name. “ _Snart_!”

What now, he had to wonder, head turning quick and sharp. “Yeah boss?” It wasn't wise not to use the accepted terms for the guards, even in the meta-human wing.

“Time for your conjugal visit.”

His _what_?

Len tried not to let his surprise show, tamping down on the way his eyebrows lifted, molding his face into a mask of something more smugly curious.

“You don’t say,” he followed the guard, one of the better ones, into the building and down a few hallways, through a few security clearances as they talked.

“Didn’t know you were married, Snart.”

Neither did he. “Oh, I like to keep people on their toes.” And apparently, he wasn't the only one. “Gotta' keep a few secrets up my sleeve.” Ones not even he himself knew about.

The guard snorted, “attitude like that, no wonder they shipped you to the meta-wing.”

Len tilted his head in acknowledgment but didn’t respond, being guided through the security check, head flitting through the possibilities of who could’ve rigged this up and for what purpose. A Santini gift, maybe? Something more sinister? A meta-human, even?

He went through the invasive cavity search without complaint, mind mostly elsewhere, running through the likelihoods, trying not to consider the craziest alternatives, trying to figure out who had the power for a fake conjugal visit.

Walking into the room, he saw about the last person he expected, but really, the first person he _should’ve_  suspected. Because Barry Allen really did like to make his life difficult, didn’t he?

 

*********

 

The prep process for the conjugal was more invasive than Barry had let himself think about, blushing and wondering why the hell they had thought this was a good idea. He knew it was going to happen, knew the protocol, but still. All the process did was give him more reasons to think about what the room he was entering was typically used for, thinking about how all of these guards thought he was married to Snart, about to see his _husband_  after weeks and weeks apart, about to undress and spend their hour having passionate I-missed-you-so-much sex until he couldn’t walk and—

Yeah, no. Barry really shouldn’t be having those thoughts as he entered the small room. It had a door to a bathroom but was otherwise furnished with little more than a side table and a bed, one that looked like it would creak, and he was afraid to sit down on the side of it but did anyway, wanting to appear casual and not like he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

The things he would do to save this city, Barry thought and almost sighed. His low-burning crush on Snart that he’d tried to deny up to this point wasn’t helping. He wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, had taken forever just to realize it himself, but the way they were always charged and in each other’s space, the way he fantasized about fighting Snart that had turned into fantasies of fighting him and losing, of Snart pressing him up against a wall with the cold gun, of claiming his prize for winning while in the daydream... those weren't platonic thoughts. And in his daydreams, Barry could still pretend he was doing it because the cold gun was out, because the threat of danger, and not because he secretly wanted—well, he was daydreaming about it and still in denial, and that had been about when he realized he needed to admit he was attracted to the other man. Which wouldn’t have really been too much of an issue—Barry was used to unrequited and inappropriate crushes, really, and Snart was locked away in Iron Heights—except that for their most recent issue and plan, Snart seemed like the best option if they could trust him, and Barry had accidentally jumped at the suggestion of a private conversation with the help of a conjugal visit.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He wished he didn’t think so quickly when he was nervous, thoughts flitting through his head too fast, left waiting for a few minutes before the door opened again, and then—

“ _Barry_?”

“Sna—Leonard!” Barry jumped to his feet and tried not to seem too out of sorts.

“One hour, gentlemen.” The guard tapped his watch and closed the door behind Len, sealing them in.

“Well well, hello _husband_.”

“Yeah, about that… I promise it’s temporary. I just needed a way to talk to you in private, without any cameras or guards who could overhear.”

“You mean it’s actually official, Red?”

Barry scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed, “I have a hacker friend, she helped slip it into the system and make it look official. We’ve been married for a year today, so uh, happy anniversary?”

Snart snorted but crossed his arms, leaned against the wall. “You decided that marrying me was a better alternative than just breaking me out for a conversation? My my, Barry, I'm flattered.” He tilted his head to the side with a smirk and Barry fought down a blush.

“There’s a reason, actually, why I couldn’t just do that and, look…”

He gave Snart the full story, watching the other man and occasionally looking away, hand swiping over his face as he talked, wishing it didn’t all sound so crazy. His every move as the Flash was being tailed by the metahuman he was dealing with so he couldn’t bust Snart out without the potential for that to go awry or get found out, not that he wanted to risk the Flash’s reputation busting out prisoners anyway if anyone figured out it was him, the lightning trail he left was pretty well-known, after all. And they needed to talk somewhere in private about Barry’s plan—request, really, which he also explained—and the details, without guards and other ears around. Which had left the conjugal visit.

“So let me get this straight, Barry—you want me to bust out of Iron Heights—with some sly help of your team but _not_ you—and then meet up with some meta-human who goes by the name of Dr. Alchemy, learn his plans, and report back to you, all while appearing to keep the Flash out of it?”

Keeping the Flash out of it was important, thanks to what Dr. Alchemy had planned and what he was holding over the Flash’s head.

“…yes?”

“And why should I?”

“We’ll break you out of Iron Heights?” That part was the easy one, as far as Barry was concerned, but Len didn’t look impressed.

“And drop me right back in here when you’re done?” he said it airily, with a little wave of his hand, but his voice was harder when he said, “thanks but _no_ thanks. I’ll bust out on my own.”

“So why haven’t you yet?” Barry smirked, feeling like he had the upper hand, but Snart just tilted his head and looked Barry up and down.

“Why would I rush when the company is so sweet?”

Barry swallowed at the predatory gaze, feeling a little nervous. He decided to keep them on track.

“We both know you weren’t expecting this conjugal, Snart. And we both know that you’re stuck in here until someone busts you out, and so long as you don’t kill anyone _while_ you’re out, I’ll leave you to your own devices again if you help us.”

“A tempting offer, Barry. Won’t that sit heavy on your conscience, letting a _murderer_ like me roam free?”

Barry's voice grew soft. “There’s good in you, Snart.”

He rolled his eyes but pushed off the wall and started walking forward, “that old schtick again? That why you think I’ll help you?”

“It’s mutually beneficial. And I _know_ you won’t betray me this time, not when Dr. Alchemy is threatening the lives of innocent people.”

Snart was close, a foot away and glaring but also calculating, voice a little dangerous, a little threatening. “You sure about that?”

Barry drew in a breath. He’d been waiting and ready for this. Ready to remind Snart of the good in himself, to take the courage he would need to trust the other man again. “Positive.”

Snart huffed out a breath but he seemed to relax a bit, some test or challenge apparently passed. “Say I’ll help you, just for the price of expedient freedom, and say we’ll talk details about your alchemist meta after I’m free—we still have 42 minutes left in here.”

Barry took a second to process that—“so you’ll help?”

“I’m considering it.”

That was a ‘yes’ as far as Barry was concerned, and he grinned in relief, shoulders dropping some of their tension. “ _Thank you_. This is great. Okay—Cisco’s device will start tonight then and at—”

“I got the gist about the escape the first time. I’ll be awake at 3am and ready. Now, we’re down to 41 minutes.”

“…yes?”

Snart’s eyes took on a totally different gleam and he pressed in a little closer to Barry’s space, making him tense all over again, not quite able to place the feeling coiling inside him making him on edge.

“I’d like to spend the remaining time on something more enjoyable than listening to details I got the first time, or a lecture on how _good_ I am. Unless, of course, you’re calling me _good_ for a completely different reason.”

Wait… he couldn’t mean… the tension in Barry’s abdomen made a lot more sense now, heat tugging inside him and moving south as he tried to figure out if Snart really meant what Barry thought he meant.

“I, uh…”

“There’s a perfectly good bed right there, Barry, and forty minutes in which to break it in, hm?”

“You aren’t _really_ suggesting we have sex, Snart?”

“Why not?”

He was. He definitely was. Barry had no idea how to process that. Snart was giving him a look that was making him a little hot under the collar—how long had it been since anyone looked at him quite like that?—and it temporarily short-circuited his brain. Snart really meant it? Barry almost wanted to, knowing it was crazy though, arguing with himself faster than any other person alive could, but the first words that managed to tumble out of his mouth were: “you’re not attracted to me?”

“Meaning you are to me?” Snart smirked and Barry’s tongue tied up trying to figure out how to respond to that. “I assure you Barry, attraction won’t be an issue.”

Barry frowned, trying to make sense of this. “I know this is just because you’ve been stuck here and—I mean I know this is just scratching an itch for you, right? We’re not together, so I don’t think—”

“We _are_ married.”

“That’s not what I—you’re a criminal.” Which really, that should have been his first argument. But Snart was moving even closer, inches away now but Barry couldn’t convince himself to step back. The room was feeling a little smaller then, his clothes a little too hot, his eyes trailing down Snart’s front, wondering what might be under the blue jumpsuit before they snapped up when the other responded.

“The criminal you married.”

The smug bastard.

“Snart, you’re not _actually_ my husband.”

“Tell that to the judge, _dear_. And it’s ‘Len’, now that we’ve said our wedding vows.” He was smirking at Barry.

“We don’t have any condoms?” He really shouldn’t have phrased it as a question.

“Guess again,” Len pointed at the drawer of the nightstand and Barry’s eyes widened. “Prison-issue, they supply anything you could need. Not glamorous, but they’ll do.”

“You’re seriously going to seduce me?”

“Does that mean it’s working?”

“I—” Barry’s eyes flicked from his hand, gesturing to the nightstand and bed, back up to Len's face, taking in how close it was, the dark of his eyes. He hadn’t moved to touch Barry yet, but Barry was heating up just considering this. It was illicit and wrong. Len— _Snart_ —was a criminal, even if Barry was attracted to him. His husband, apparently, at least for today, but his enemy too. But in this little room, one used almost solely for sex, Len’s eyes on him, clearly interested and Barry was single, hadn’t had sex in ages, hadn’t had someone so blatantly attracted to him in longer, and… “this is the most ridiculous way to consummate a marriage, I hope you know that.”

“Is that a _yes_ , Barry?”

“Don’t you dare make me regret this.”

Len kissed him and Barry gasped into it, not expecting it, not so sudden. Len’s hands were on his jaw, pulling Barry’s face closer and he couldn’t believe himself, what he was about to do, even as his eyes fluttered closed and his brain catalogued the feel of the soft chapped lips against his own. His hands nervously reached forward and tugged on Len’s jumpsuit, pulling him in by the thick fabric until their bodies were touching, pressed together, and then weaving his arms around Len’s back, letting him deepen the kiss.

He almost started in surprise when Len’s tongue slid across his lips before opening his mouth and letting it in, letting it press against his own, moaning quietly into the kiss. Len pulled away at that, sucking Barry’s lower lip, making his hands clench in the jumpsuit before whispering quietly, “I can admit, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

Barry swallowed and opened his eyes, meeting Len’s gaze, the grey-blue orbs more hot than cold right now but he still shivered. “I can’t believe we’re actually about to have sex.”

He was close enough to see Len’s pupils dilate, his own body responding to his words too, feeling his jeans get a little tighter as he realized it was really about to happen. Len thumbed across his lip and he fought down the blush in his cheeks, leaning in and kissing Len again to stop whatever smug comment was coming next. He took charge of the kiss this time, more insistent, sucking on Len’s plush lower lip, biting it gently. He was surprised when Len gasped into his mouth, repeating the gesture for good measure, a little harder this time, feeling Len’s body press closer into his own.

“You like that? Biting?” Barry whispered against his lips, a little cocky.

“Hmm, why don’t you test and find out?”

Barry did just that, kissing Len deep, tongue pressing into Len’s mouth before pulling back so he could nibble on Len’s lip, earning a quiet moan. Len’s hands fisted in the back of Barry’s shirt before he regrouped, moved one up to Barry’s hair to angle Barry’s face for a deeper kiss, pulling on the strands and making Barry groan in return. Len pressed his advantage, moving to kiss Barry’s neck, to suck on it, and he gasped but that wouldn’t do, not ready to lose quite yet, even as his senses started to overwhelm him, so much more sensitive since getting his powers, feeling every inch and line of their bodies pressed together, their hips and thighs and chests and more. But Barry focused, breathed deep while Len kissed his neck then moved his jaw and tilted it against Len's, nosed along Len’s ear then nipped at it. He sucked on the lobe and raked his teeth across it, Len swallowing and letting out a shaky breath next to him, a shiver passing through his body. Barry kissed down his jaw then neck, biting the soft flesh everywhere he could reach. And Len moaned more audibly in response, tightening his fingers in Barry’s hair, making him gasp and suck or bite harder, their bodies starting to rut together, caught up in the loop of sensations.

“Careful,” Len gasped, free hand sliding up his back, skin on skin under his shirt and Barry licked the underside of Len’s jaw. “Don’t leave any marks—I’m in prison, remember?”

“For a few more hours—think I can leave a few. You’re a married man, hate to let your fellow prisoners get any ideas about who you belong to.”

Len chuckled through his next moan when Barry started to suck and bite the other side of his neck. “Possessive, Barry?”

“Mmm,” he didn’t disagree, moving his mouth down to the junction of neck and shoulder to bite. Len swore and pulled Barry's head back by his hair and Barry’s stomach felt hot and tight at the intensity of it.

“I could do this all day, but we’re on the clock, Barry.”

Right, _right_. He really was getting swept up, half-forgetting that detail. He stepped back and started to pull his shirt off. “Guess we should hurry?”

“How do you want to do this?”

“You’re the one stuck in here and you're asking me?” Barry paused with his hand over his button on his jeans, glancing at Len, taking in the flushed red of his lips, the bite marks all over his neck, even as Len was shrugging out of his clothes.

“Wouldn’t want to scare you away by asking for too much,” his eyes flicked between Barry’s when he said it, half a jibe but it felt honest, too, before he was looking away to kick out of his jumpsuit, down to his underwear. Barry’s eyes raked his body, full of tattoos, more of Len’s skin than he ever thought he would see. His cock strained in sympathy, eyeing a similar bulge on Len’s body, constrained by his prison-issue boxer briefs.

Barry’s voice was hoarse when he replied, “I’m visiting a prison, legally married to you, about to have sex on a rickety little mattress that might break by the time we're done—don’t think much is gonna’ scare me away at this point.” He blushed then, realizing how much that made it seem like he wanted this, probably more than Len even did, voice trying to go for cool when he kept talking. “I mean… I’m good for whatever?”

However awkward and embarrassing Barry could be, Len looked pleased by that answer, stepping into his space again, hands moving down his naked front, sliding down his chest and Barry breathed deep in response and wrapped his arms loose around Len’s waist before the other man moved to nose along his jaw. The hands stopped at Barry’s hips, just over the line of his underwear, his erection pressing into Len’s hip, Len’s against his own.

“We have 26 minutes left.” Len sucked on the lobe of Barry’s ear like he’d done to him, even as his hands moved back and cupped his ass. His voice was low and hot near his ear, making Barry shiver while he talked. “Probably not enough time for me to prep and fuck you, not properly.”

Barry made a noise in his throat, not one he was necessarily proud of, sounding too much like desperate needy want, brain conjuring up the image of Len inside him, pressing him to the mattress, then of Barry riding him. As much as he wanted to fuck Len, press _him_ against the nearest surface and make him moan Barry’s name till he cried in pleasure, he'd just offered Len whatever he wanted, and really, that image was lovely too, body clenching at the mental visuals already.

“I want—god, Snart, Len—you—we can do that. We should do that. Twenty-six minutes? Definitely doable.”

“It’ll take at least half that just to open you up and—”

“I have super powers, Len; give me thirty seconds and I—”

Len’s hands kneaded his ass, “ _fuck_. Fuck I want to watch that.” He kissed Barry hard and deep and they tumbled back onto the rickety mattress—mercifully it didn't buckle under their weight. They got their bearings and kissed again, bodies pressed together as they bit and sucked at one another’s lips, necks, Len pulling his hair and Barry’s legs finding their way around Len’s hips. This was crazy, stupid, and altogether too good, cock aching for more as he rocked it up against Len’s, needing to be naked already.

“Time— _ah_ —limit,” Barry moaned when Len decided to try and bruise his neck again. “Boxers—”

“—off,” Len finished for him, leaning back. Barry didn’t waste time, stripping them both of their underwear at top-speed. For Len, it would seem like a blink, but Barry actually took his time while he was moving at this speed anyway, hands smoothing over Len’s skin, sparing nanoseconds for the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders, the tattoos, old scars, his calves muscled from running, from jumping onto moving vehicles and over obstacles, and his _hands_ —Barry took an extra moment to explore those hands, a sensation that Len would barely even feel by the time his brain registered the feeling, a tingle at most.

“You really are eager, aren’t you?” Len grinned as Barry resumed normal speed, their underwear on the ground beside the bed.

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, zipping out of bed to grab the lube and condom before resuming his spot with his back on the mattress, Len on his knees between Barry’s thighs. He blushed then, looking up at Len, feeling a little vulnerable with his legs spread. This part was embarrassing, and he was keen to get to the next one. But Len wanted to watch, and…

“You’re gorgeous.”

Barry’s blush intensified under Len’s gaze as he slicked up his fingers, “flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Mmm.” Len leaned forward to kiss him again, deep for a moment before he was back on his haunches and watching. The way Len kissed was disorienting, too intimate, too sudden, too much like something Barry wanted more and more of. But they were on the clock. Barry sped up, having to go a little fast to make this work if he wanted to actually get to having sex, but with his perception speeding up accordingly, for him it would feel like it was drawn out, even though to Len’s eyes it would be seconds.

Barry pressed in a single finger first, sliding it in with little resistance, thrusting it in and out, teasing his prostate before adding a second. He breathed heavier then, short little pants, hips stuttering, sparing a thought to wonder if it all looked like a blur to Len before he crooked his fingers and moaned, probably on high frequency. He willed most of his body to slow back down, keeping his fingers fast, perception finding normal speed as the third finger was added, stretching him out and he whimpered and spread his legs wider, gasped and then moaned when he felt his fingers vibrating against his prostate, exposing his neck as he tilted his head and rolled his eyes back.

Barry pulled out his fingers before he got carried away, gasping, and Len kissed him again before he could catch his breath, groaning into Barry’s mouth and claiming it with his tongue, keeping Barry heady and drunk on pleasure.

“We should—”

“Yeah, we should. Roll over?” Len’s voice sounded as rough as his own and Barry obliged the request, more than happy to do this on his front, bent at the knees and stretched out for Len, a little on display with his ass in the air. He heard the condom wrapper open, felt Len grab his legs and position him and turned his head enough to look back at Len. _He_ looked gorgeous, not Barry. With those tattoos and his shoulders and, oh fuck, his cock was lining up and— _god_ —he was pressing, just there.

“Come on,” Barry gasped, pushing his hips up just enough, dropping his head to rest between his shoulders. Len swore and clutched his hips, and they both groaned when Len’s cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle, stretching Barry’s body out.

Len’s breathing was strained, body angled above him. “You’re so tight.”

“Come on,” he whispered again, pressing back as much as Len’s grip on his hips would allow, wishing he could just reach up and pull him closer, urge him to hurry up. “You feel— _ah_ you feel good. Really— _nnn_ —really goo—”

Len made a noise halfway to a growl and pushed in deep, a few more inches, leaning forward over Barry as he did and catching himself on an elbow, breathing sounding harsh and strained with the effort of holding himself back, huffs of air near Barry’s ear. He shuddered and reached a hand back, around the back of Len’s neck then to the flesh of his shoulder to pull Len closer yet, spread his legs wider for the other, feeling Len’s thighs between his own, skin pressed to skin. Barry was sweating already, the intensity of the stretch, the slight burn, the snug and tight feel of Len’s cock inside him.

“God, Barry.”

“I’m good, Len, I’m good, just please— _god oh—ah_ _—_ just fuck me already.”

Len moved to kiss him, tilting Barry’s head to the side and capturing his lips and Barry almost shook as Len started to thrust into the pressure of Barry’s body, slick but tight. His own cock was untouched but straining up between his body and the mattress, begging for attention but he knew it would be over too soon if he started to touch himself already. Len reached a hand around his body and his hand splayed over Barry’s chest, holding him and place and pulling him closer at once, back to Len’s chest, kissing deeper while Barry sucked and nipped at Len’s lip again. Both of them were panting in minutes, moving together, the thrusts shallow still but intense and a causing heady stretch.

But then Len’s cock pressed and dragged along Barry’s prostate in just the right way and he stopped being able to gather the brain function to even kiss, or do anything but gasp. He dropped his head forward again, forehead to the mattress and he moaned, and moaned and _moaned_ as Len found the angle and kept thrusting again and again in just the right way, getting harder as he pulled noises out of Barry. And he  _was_ being noisy but he couldn't care. He hadn’t been fucked in a long time, and it’d been even longer since he was fucked like _this_ , and he forgot how good it felt, how much he enjoyed letting someone else drive into him and control the pace and take charge and—

“ _Fuck_ , Barry—” Len was groaning too, and Barry wasn’t even sure, maybe he was babbling, maybe he was begging, all he knew was that he wanted _more_. He moved one hand beneath his body on instinct, needing to touch himself, high with pleasure, so _close_ , but Len’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled it back, pressed it to the mattress and his fingers threaded in with Barry’s, keeping his hand held fast there.

Barry whined and he felt more than heard Len chuckle, the other’s lips on his shoulder, kissing. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, I’ve got you. I’ll— _nnn_ —I'll take care of you.”

Barry whined again, legs flexing as he pressed himself back against Len, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. Len swore and Barry couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of him if he tried, couldn’t help the way the little bed was hitting against the wall with each thrust, the racket as they fucked. Len’s body was so close and hot against his back, and he gave up his grip on Barry’s hip to grab his other wrist and thread their fingers together there too, pressing both their sets of hands against the mattress then, and the gesture was so intimate it was almost too much for Barry, tears of pleasure pricking at the edges of his vision as he rocked back against Len and kept up a litany of “ _yes_ ” and “ _please_ ” and “ _more_ ” and " _Len_ " between his half-breathless gasps.

Len was making choked-off noises close to his ear and his thrusts were getting faster, deeper, and he dragged his right hand away from Barry’s and down between their bodies and Barry fisted his hand in the sheets and whispered Len's name on repeat, too far gone to care. His body was already clenching tighter in anticipation, tension coiling, waiting to be released as Len’s hand wrapped around his cock and felt like everything he had been missing all his life, the stimulation and relief he needed. He half-sobbed as he started to vibrate, body overwhelmed by pleasure, world too intense, distilled to the feeling of Len's cock stretching him out and thrusting deep inside him, of Len's hand on his cock, all pleasure, and he was coming a few short strokes later, shaking and crying out, trembling.

“Fuck, Barry, _fuck_ —” Len’s hips stuttered hard and heavy and deep, _so_ deep as Barry was clenching and pulsing around his cock and Barry was so sensitized as he felt Len’s orgasm overtake him, thrusting too fast then shuddering and falling forward, panting heavy, hand falling from Barry’s cock to catch himself on the mattress, body quaking gently one last time before his orgasm subsided.

They both shuddered for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the suddenly-quiet room.

“God.”

“Yeah,” Barry agreed, “think I saw heaven there for a minute, too.”

Len chuckled and it was lighter, somehow, than Barry had ever heard it. He pulled out with a sigh and Barry groaned when he rolled onto his back, watching as Len mustered the energy to stand and dispose of the condom in the small bathroom, bringing Barry back a warm cloth to clean himself and he couldn’t help but feel warm at the gesture.

“Few minutes left to get dressed and everything. We did alright, Barry.”

Barry laughed in response, liking how Len’s voice was less clipped, less sardonic. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and when Barry was clean he sat up too, moving to join him, nudging his arm.

“So that was something.”

“Mm.” Len arched an eyebrow over at him. _“Something._ You can’t be _that_ easy to seduce. Tell me, Barry, how many times have you thought about doing that?”

Barry didn't feel like there was much point in denying it, but he looked away all the same, a little embarrassed. The pain in his lower back wasn’t going to let him forget this crazy decision for a little while, though with his body, it would still be gone too soon. “Umm… a few times, maybe.”

Len nodded, looking a little pleased but didn’t say anything, and Barry wondered about the possibility of them doing this again, perhaps not on the clock the next time. But he supposed that would all ultimately depend on whether Len pulled through with Dr. Alchemy, or if another betrayal was in his future. He sincerely hoped it would be the former.

“We’ve got a few minutes, right?”

“A few.”

Barry moved behind Len and dropped his hands to the flesh above his shoulder blades, starting to massage. Len groaned and dropped his head forward, clearly welcoming the touch.

“What brought this on?”

“Aside from wanting to get a closer look at your tattoos?” Barry teased. “Seemed like you've been tense.”

“Who me? In Iron Heights? Now why _ever_ —”

“Yeah yeah, just enjoy the massage.” Barry started to gently vibrate his hands and Len shut up promptly, sighing and relaxing under the touch after a few minutes—probably more than they could spare, really—had passed. Then Barry sighed and leaned forward to kiss his neck gently, over one of the bite marks. “Sorry about all the marks.”

“Like you said, I’ll be out of here in a few hours, right?”

Barry smiled softly, something curling inside his chest as he did, not that Len would be able to see the expression from where he was seated in front of Barry. That was probably for the best, the tenderness a little too much for right now, for this, but he couldn't stop the feelings regardless. But then they had to stand and dress, Barry much quicker at it, Len measured in all his movements, precise as ever. He didn't know what to say, but Len managed to find words.

“So, husband, how long are we married for?” Len asked him, even as Barry could hear a guard coming down the hall outside the room, the heavy footfalls easily marked.

“We’ll have to erase it as soon as you’re out—can’t exactly stay married if I want to keep my job, and don’t want anyone to find it in the system.”

“Mm, a shame. I was rather enjoying the married life.”

Barry laughed in spite of himself, then flashed forward before the guard reached the door, into Len’s space to steal one last kiss, taking one of Len’s hands and threading their fingers together. The key turned in the lock to admit the guard and Barry stepped back but didn’t let go of Len’s hand. Instead, he held it until they had to part at the end of the hall, smiling over at Len like he was getting away with something more illicit than what they’d just done, making the other man hold his hand.

“I’ll see you soon, darling,” Len murmured, loud enough to be heard by the guards but soft enough that Barry felt like it was just for him.

“Soon,” Barry repeated, suppressing the shiver sliding down his spine. Finally, his fingers slowly dropped from Len’s and he turned to go, Len heading in the opposite direction, back toward the meta-human wing.

As he made it back outside and into the light of day, Barry caught himself mentally picking out wedding ring designs and laughed for a solid minute. This was crazy, the marriage was a sham, the sex was an atrocious mistake that Captain Cold was sure to make him regret. But, well, if this deal with Len actually worked out, who knew what could happen?

**Author's Note:**

> Someone pointed out that there is a 'dearth' (love that word) of conjugal visit coldflash fics, and well, I enjoy being able to deliver every now and then ;) I built in a biting kink and a hand-holding thing as per some requests on tumblr as well; hope they went over okay!
> 
> And ah, so I only researched conjugal visits after writing this, and yeah they typically last a lot longer than an hour. But let’s assume that this one is just an hour because Len is in a high-security meta ward and it’s his first conjugal, so it’s restricted because he hasn’t yet demonstrated a pattern of good behavior? Also, conjugal visits aren’t a thing in either Missouri or Kansas (where Iron Heights should be located) but uh, I suppose no one cares that much about the details when I’m writing pwp.
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this!


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